Marking of Possession
by Nightcrawlerlover
Summary: AU. Oz makes it clear, in his own way, that he won't share Dawn with anybody.


**Hey there, my fellow readers and writers. Here's a new Buffy oneshot I cooked up. Hope you like it. :) **

**Pairing: Oz/Dawn**

**Rating: K+**

**Spoilers: None... It's Fantasy/AU. Dawn isn't the Key, and Oz never left Sunnydale. **

**Disclaimer: Genius Joss Whedon owns Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I own the songfics, oneshots, ficlets, poems and novellas I cook up from time to time. **

Marking of Possession

**Summary:** AU. Oz makes it clear, in his own way, that he won't share Dawn with anybody.

It was nighttime in Sunnydale, California. Dawn was wearing a long-sleeved blue shirt, green shorts and white socks. She felt her cheeks heat up as Oz looked into her eyes and then moved up the bed a little, thus closing the inches of space between them a bit.

"Oz-" she began.

"Dawn," Oz suddenly growled, "I have a confession to make. I'm jealous."

"Really?" asked Dawn as Oz then reached over with one hand and put it on the back of her head, and then pulled her to him.

"Of course," Oz growled, putting her head under his chin.

When he began sniffing her hair, taking in her scent, the wolf inside of him began growling upon seeing a mental picture of the beauty that Dawn really was.

Dawn shuddered all over, but in pleasure instead of fear. Oz noticed, and then, after a few more minutes of getting her scent, he pulled away. The smirk on his face caused Dawn's eyes to widen.

Immediately, she pushed Oz away a little, got off of her bed and ran over to the door, hoping to get away. However, she stopped and almost yelped in both surprise and pain when a pair of hands grabbed her wrists.

"Silly little one," purred Oz's all-too-familiar, silky-smooth voice in her ear, "apparently you don't realize something here."

"Oz," Dawn said as she tried to make him relinquish his grasp on her wrists, "please. Let me go."

"I don't think so," Oz growled in reply. He then dipped his head and pressed his teeth against her neck, leaving a bruise as a mark. "You see, little Dawnie, I can't take it anymore. I watch as you always run around with your sister Buffy, as well as those friends of hers that see you as part of the gang. And that smile – you smile like a child."

Dawn struggled in Oz's grasp. "I am not a child!" she hissed in a whisper.

Oz pressed his body against hers. "But you do remind me of one – the child you were before you began this process called ‛growing up', if you will."

As he turned her around, Dawn closed her eyes, hoping that he would stop soon and leave. But for her, there was no such luck.

"Don't," she whispered when she felt his other hand caress one of her bare legs.

"Try and stop me," he purred into her ear as he moved his free hand up her bare leg and over her shorts. "Now," he growled, "open your eyes."

Dawn then opened her eyes, only to let out a yelp when Oz picked her up bridal-style and carried her back to the bed. Luckily, it was a good thing that Buffy was sleeping over at Willow's and her mother was out of town.

"Now, now, Dawnie dearest," Oz growled as he lay her down on the bed. His blue eyes were looking deeply into Dawn's own ocean ones, as though he was looking into her very soul – or quite possibly reading her aura, she wasn't sure which.

Then he began to mark her skin with little nips and bites, making Dawn shiver half in pain and half in pleasure.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to explain these marks to Buffy," she said to herself, not knowing that Oz could hear her.

Oz chuckled a little. "Then **I'll** explain it to her. A word of praise here, a smile there, and she's under my spell too. After all, a young lady such as yourself should know that to put your trust in a werewolf like me is to take a great risk. A risk you never even thought about."

As he spoke, he then leaned down and ran his tongue around the shell of her ear.

Dawn bit her lower lip. She knew he had a point. After all, he sure knew how to put things into words – in a short kind of way, at least according to Buffy and Xander.

She knew he was mysterious. Enigmatic. Inscrutable to the last, if there ever was such a thing to be.

**~Finis**


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